The Second Quarter Quell- Haymitch
by Queenjawn
Summary: It's the Fiftieth Annual Hunger Games and there are twice as many names in the reaping bowl as a celebration of the Scond Quarter Quell. Haymitch is unlucky- 24 slips in a bowl of thousands and his is the one that surfaces. It's kill or be killed, and all for TV. Winning makes you famous. Losing means certain death. (The Games is the main part. Sorry for rushed beginning)
1. Chapter 1

50th Annual Hunger Games

Haymitch

Reaping day. I hold my little brother, Tomas' hand and look up to my mother. She looks queasy, as you would if your child's name was entered 24 times into the reaping bowl. And your other child, 14. I guess she would rather one of us die than all of us starve.  
Tomas is 13. Too young to die, old enough to fight for his life. It only works one way.  
I'd be less worried if the odds were more in our favour today. As it goes, four tributes will be picked from each district as it is the second quarter quell. Which means both Tomas and I could both be leaving 12 today, never to return. Sick, really. But that's life.

I swallow hard and use my other hand to straighten my shirt. Loose cotton, worn to threadbare day after day by my late father. I take a step forward and open the front door. Clara is there, smiling at me. My girlfriend. She takes my other hand.  
"Ready?" She asks. I can see the grimace in her eyes.  
"No!" I smile back. "But hey, what have we got to lose?"  
It takes a second for her to reply.  
"Our lives."  
I grin in her direction. I want to keep things upbeat for her, especially because the odds are really not in her favour. Her name is in the reaping bowl fifty one times to feed her ever growing family. I will smile. For Clara.  
This is my last year in the hunger games. One last chance at life before the only thing that can make me bite the dust is hunger. Or thirst. Or coal. Or pneumonia.  
Tomas, Clara and I walk together, with my mother slightly behind, into the town centre. It is cordoned off, as usual. I hug my mother, tell her I'll see her soon. Kiss Clara lightly. Squeeze Tomas' hand. I take my place in the boy's section and turn to the stage.  
Stood on the stage is Rora. She's our... I guess you'd call her our district representative? She announces the tributes.  
The Capitol seal appears on the big screen and the anthem plays. Rora steps forward to the microphone.  
"Good afternoon! And welcome to a special year of the hunger games! This year it's the Second Quarter Quell. The fiftieth annual games!" She breaks off and stares into the audience. Nobody so much as moves a muscle. "This year promises to be an exciting year! As there will be one hundred percent more tributes involved in the games!"  
The square is no longer silent. There are muffled cries, weeps from mothers and a gasp from an old man in a wheelchair near me.  
"That's right! Four tributes will be reaped from each district. Four! I don't doubt most of you have heard this already. But how exciting!" Rora turns to the screen and waves a hand towards it. Her ginger hair that falls to her ankles blows softly in the breeze.  
The anthem plays again, then the film. The same film, every year, saying the same thing. About how it's for our own good. The death of our own children is for our own good.  
And then it ends. Rora claps and turns to the reaping bowl.  
"Ladies!" She grins. Reaching her hand into the bowl, she closes her eyes tight as she digs about. Opens one eye for effect. Still squinting, she opens the first piece of paper.  
"Maysilee Donner!"  
Silence.  
No one volunteers, but a girl with long blonde hair steps up to the stage. Rora grins and sticks her hand in again. She doesn't close her eyes.  
After a moment's fishing for the fate of another dead girl, she brings out her hand. "Violet Hornby!"  
The square is silent again, and all eyes watch a young girl, no older than 12, climb the steps to the stage. Rora shakes her hand, and the girl almost trips in bewilderment.  
"Boys!"  
Rora crosses the stage to the huge bowl full of paper slips. Twenty four pieces of paper with Haymitch Abernathy written on them swirl about with her hand. She catches one and brings it out.  
Clearing her throat, she reads; "Tomas Josef!"  
My heart almost stops when I hear it's not my brother. He is almost safe. She reaches into the bowl again.  
"Haymitch Abernathy!"  
My jaw drops. I look around. Point at myself. Shake my head. It's me. I'm going to die.  
My eyes find Tomas' eyes. He's blinking back tears. I find Clara. She is doing the same. Then a cry brings me to my senses and I start moving for the stage. Another cry sends me whirling round when I realise the sound belongs to my mother. Two peacekeepers hold her back but she screams my name. Tomas races through the crowds despite being chased after to reach her. I can hear her yelling "I volunteer!", but it's no use. No one will listen to her now. The shouts die down as I reach the stage and I look into Rora's eyes. They glisten. She swallows before she speaks.  
"Well, here we have it! The tributes of the Fiftieth Annual Hunger Games!"  
There is muted applause. Then it's over.


	2. Chapter 2- The Train

Chapter 2

There's a hand on the small of my back. I turn to swat it away but the hand does not move. I'm being forced the walk into the Justice Building, into the visitors room.  
I wait for a minute before Tomas bursts through the great pine doors. Mom enters shortly after, silent tears pouring down her face. I give Tomas a quick hug and rush towards my mother. She squeezes me tight and doesn't let go, and eventually I feel Tomas cling to me again. We sit like this for a minute, and time is ticking away, so I say-  
"Mom. Mom! Look, I'll win. I'll win and I'll come home to you. I promise!"  
She looks reproachfully into my eyes. Nods. I don't think she believes me. "You win, Haymitch. But if you don't return, you must know I love you. So much. And your father does, too."  
"And me!" Squeaks Tomas. He's crying. I fight back tears myself.  
"Thanks, mom," I smile. Got to be strong. "I will. I'll win. You'll see."  
The peacekeepers come in and drag mom and Tomas away. I'll never see them again.  
Clara runs in, and she's crying, too. She looks me in the eye and we kiss, strong at first, then gentle. She pulls back and I dig into my back pocket.  
"Clara, listen. I was going to do this after next year's reaping and well, I guess I am..." I get down on one knee. "Clara, will you marry me?" I glance at the doors. No one comes in.  
She gasps and pulls me up to my feet. "Yes. Yes!" I place a ring in her hand and close it around the dull gold band. My father's. "Although- take it with you! It can be your token." She opens her hand and drops the ring in mine. "I love you, Haymitch." She sighs. I grin.  
"Although, no one must know. It'll be official- when I return." We hug. She is pulled away by peacekeepers and I see another tear in her eye.

I wait, but no one else comes. No one else cares. Surprise, surprise. Then the great door swings open so violently I worry for a second that it'll come off its hinges, but then I remember I'm going to die. So it doesn't matter. A peacekeeper storms in and grabs me by the arm. He drags me outside and then lets me go. I look at his face. No emotion. He doesn't even catch my eye.  
A car pulls up outside the justice building and I'm bustled inside, with Maysilee, the other Tomas, and the girl who's name I've forgotten. I don't bother to ask.  
We don't speak on the way to the station. Maybe it's because we all know we're going to die, and to fight is to die, or maybe that we all know we might end up killing each other. Rora sits in the front of the car and as we pull in to the station, she leans over to the back seats, her ankle length hair falling over her face.  
"All smiles, guys! Remember- you're celebrities now."  
The younger girl is the only one who nods. I look at Maysilee. She looks at me. Quickly, I turn away.  
When we arrive, the doors are opened by peacekeepers and we are ushered out. Cameras flash in my face and I make no effort to smile. They're photographing me for my funeral, I remember. Maysilee and Tomas and... Violet, I remember, are grinning. Tomas is fighting off tears. Which makes me think of my Tomas.  
We climb on the train and only then do I relax a little. But then the tension is back when Rora scowls at me.  
"Haymish! Why didn't you smile?"  
"It's Haymitch, for starters," I scowl back. "Why should I?"  
Rora doesn't reply, but turns to walk away. I smirk as her hair gets caught under her bare feet and she trips.  
The trip to the Capitol isn't that bad. I go to my room and find stacks of food on the coffee table. It's gone in moments, which I then regret, as my stomach isn't ready for such food so fast. So I sit on the violently green sofa and flick on the television. I see myself, and grin at my frowning face. I look fat Maysilee, but the screen changes to the four Eleven tributes. Both males are older, and look strong, as well as one of the females. But the second girl cannot be older than 12, and looking at her makes me sick.  
The tributes of Ten through to Four appear one by one on the screen, along with a commentary by a man with a ridiculously high voice. I pay attention when it comes to Three Two and One, the tributes I will have to be most wary of. There may be others, but these are my first worry.  
Three's males are both younger. I smirk. Both females are considerably older, and one of them is already flexing her muscles. Rolling my eyes, I lean in to hear the commentary.  
"And here we have it! District Three's tributes. That's Xovier Filler, Milchard Filler-" Brothers. I squint to get a look at their faces. Nothing. "... Luciane Roach, and Colina Wellbroke! Look at her, Colina, she looks like a fighter, don't you think?"  
A voice joins the squeaky man's. "Yes! Wow. We'll keep an eye on her!"  
We all will, I think. Two appears on the screen.  
"Aaaaaaand here's District Two! Tage Morgan, Doj Iolen, Ana Lucifil and Sofia Olem!" Their names flash onto the screen. I roll my eyes at the stupid names. Who calls their kid 'Doj'?  
All of Two's fighters are older, and I wince at the thought of fighting then. I will focus in training, I think.  
And when One appears on the screen, my eyes widen. I take note of the names- Dazzle Grew, Ove Braken, Pela Forger and Grayse Fadson. All tributes are strong and must be what, seventeen? All of them? Volunteers, I diagnose from their posture and stride.  
I stand and turn the set off. I'm sure I will forget most of the names, but I make an effort to remember the twelve tributes who will be definitely out to kill me.

I take a shower that evening. It's nice, and I stand under the water for unnecessarily long. I can hear Rora calling me for supper, but I ignore her. She shouts that I need to come meet my mentor, Josef, so we can learn how to get sponsors. I ignore that, too. Josef can wait.  
I step out of the shower when I'm sure she's gone, and dress in some black trousers and a grey shirt. I find the ring in my worn fabric trousers' back pocket and slip it on my finger. Only then do I join the others in the supper carriage.  
"At last!" Rora stands up. I scan the room. Tomas is nearest, with Maysilee and Violet sat next to where Rora was. A peculiar looking old man sits opposite, his spectacles balanced on the end of his nose. He nods. I return the gesture, slightly.  
We eat supper in silence, although I have already eaten. The emptiness returns and I banish it with gallons of chicken soup and rolls.  
We walk to a sofa and watch the recaps of the reapings. I was right about the volunteers from One.  
I ignore the rest of the program and stare out the window. All I see are trees, blurs of green and brown.  
"I'm going to bed." I mumble. Rora and Josef smile at me. The rest of the tributes just stare.  
I march to my compartment and undress. I find some pyjama bottoms made of a strange stretchy material and pull them on, and then throw myself under the covers.  
My mother paints my dreams that night.

When I wake, Rora's hair tickles my face. I scramble to pull the sheets up over my chest and she grins.  
"Wakey wakey!" She chirps and runs out of my room. I pull on the same clothes as yesterday, grab a roll and a mug of frothy milk and stride into the supper carriage.  
Josef shakes my hand. I shake his, as he is not too pompous. He did win his games. I decide I like him.  
"I realise I didn't get to introduce myself properly yesterday. I'm Josef Reed. I'm your mentor." He grins. The four of us take a seat at the table and Rora goes to make herself a coffee, by the smell of it. "I'm here to help. If there's anything you need, you ask, ok? I need to know what you're good at." He looks at me. "Haymitch?"  
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. "I- I-" Josef grins. "I can throw a knife."  
"Not bad! Tomas?" Tomas just shakes his head. "Violet?"  
"I... I can carve mama's turkeys..."  
Hmm. Competition.  
"Maysilee?"  
"I... Um... I lived in a sweet shop. What can I get from that? I guess I have a steady hand."  
"Great! We can work with that. Tomas, we can find something."  
The rest of the journey is spent in silent. Tomas is on the verge of tears.  
The Capitol grows in the distance. The place where I will spend the next two weeks before my violent death.


	3. Chapter 3- The Ceremonies

The Remake Centre is massive. Bigger than the Justice Building. I enter it warily, herded by Rora and Josef. I lose track of where Maysilee, Tomas and Violet go. By the time I get to my preparation room, which is at the very top of the building, Josef has gone, too. Rora pushes me through the door and I am met by three very strange looking women. One of them is very tall; with elongated eyes. They stretch too far to her ears. I look at her feet and see she is standing in heels that must be at least a foot tall. The second woman is squat and fat, with violently purple hair. The third woman catches my eyes, and hers are black. Then I realise she is not in fact a she. His hair really does not complement his masculinity.  
The fat woman steps forward. "Haymitch Abernathy! Hello! We are your prep team. Your stylist, Clode, is in the next room." I step forward towards the white door the woman gestures to. She holds a hand out and laughs. "Oh no, you don't get away that easily! I'm Vita. This is Taf-" Vita points to the tall woman, who nods, "- and this is Beet." The man grins at me, revealing garishly blue pointed teeth. "We're going to make you look all pretty. The ladies will love you!"  
I roll my eyes as Taf leads me to a table. I'm confused for a moment, as there are no chairs, and then I realise she wants me to lie on it. I do, and they start to remove my clothes.  
"Woah-" I pull my shirt back down over my chest. "What...?"  
Beet grins again, and I cringe into the table. "We've got to get all that yucky excess hair away, Haymitch. Don't worry, there are no cameras in here!"  
Slowly, I oblige, and soon I am lying on the table stark naked and freezing.  
They strip me of all my hair, except my legs and chest, because apparently it's manly. My face is the most clean- shaven it has ever been, and I marvel at the sharpness of the razor they held so close to my throat. Back at home, mine is as blunt as a stone. Something else I will never see again.  
The prep team cover me in grit and scrub so hard I'm sure I'll look like a raw turkey in the arena. Then they file my nails, which feels ridiculous, but it amazes me how tidy I look after my hair actually has no dirt in it and has been cut to a uniform length. Its proper sandy colour shines out for the first time in years.  
I spot my ring on the table next to be and grab it. How did I not notice them removing it?  
"Oh, that grubby thing?" Beet asks. I scowl and clasp it to my chest. He laughs. "We only needed to get every accessible surface clean. It's a beautiful token."  
Taf, Vita and Beet all stare at me for a second. Then Vita mumbles something about Clode and they dart out of the room.  
Then I'm alone, shivering and standing wearing nothing but my ring. I twist it on my finger and think of Clara, willing myself home to her. The big white door opens and snaps me to my senses.  
A man enters. He's stick thin and his physical appearance immediately disgusts me. The thought that they have enough food here in the Capitol so they can choose how skinny or fat they are makes me sick.  
His face is so surgically altered it is hard to tell what shape it was meant to be. One side is round and full, but that stops at the chin. The other is lean and heart- shaped, and his cheekbone on that side is so visible he looks sick. His skin is a vile green, his eyebrows orange, and implanted in his forehead is a star. Three hearts stand out under his skin down the bridge of his nose. His teeth are too big for his mouth. The whole combination makes him look like he has some sort of deadly disease.  
"Hayyymitch!" He growls. His tongue is split into two tails at the end. "I am Clode. Nice to meet you." He holds out a hand and I gingerly shake it, grimacing at his clawed fingernails. "Time to get you dresssssed."  
The next hour is spent through Clode inspecting my body and dressing me in a black coal miner's suit. It's exactly like the ones worn at home except it looks brand new. I look down at myself and frown.  
Clode reaches into a small pot. It's black and I can't see what's in it. "Close your eyessss." He demands. I do so, but am not prepared for the cloud of dust he throws into my face. Coal dust. It enters my nose and I stand sputtering for a minute while Clode watches, smiling. "Perrrrrfect!"  
I open my eyes and stand in front of the body- length mirror behind me. I try to grin at my costume, but it looks so fake it's hard to be positive. It looks like someone has thrown black dust in the face of an eighteen year old miner on his first day. That's it. "Lovely." I say, and Clode smiles. There is no way I will win the crowd's favour now. He puts a headlamp on my head, turns it on and leads me from the room.

We meet with Violet, Maysilee and Tomas at the bottom of the Remake Centre. They are dressed exactly the same as me, except Maysilee's dust has been thrown slightly lower down, so it covers the bottom of her face. Probably want to show her eyes. They're a pretty green. We are loaded onto two separate carriages, each pulled by four horses. I'm with Maysilee. She nods at me as she climbs up.  
The carriages will enter the opening ceremonies next to each other, starting with District One. The music starts, and I can feel Maysilee trembling. The massive doors swing open and One's carriages are tugged out into the street.  
There are thousands of people. All cheering for us. This almost brings a sense of fame to me but then I remember that I'm going to die. The carts start forward, and the cheering erupts even louder than before. Then, in no time, we are in the middle of the Capitol, being towed towards our certain deaths. I don't move at all on the journey to the training centre. I stare straight ahead, and watch Maysilee smile timidly at the crowd out the corner of my eye.  
When we approach the training centre, the carts ahead of us are littered with roses. Especially One, Two and Three. Not one flower rests by my feet. The doors of the training centre open wide and twenty four carriages roll through them. I immediately climb off the carriage and throw my headlamp on the floor in disgust. Then I remember Maysilee and hold out my hand to her. She climbs down to.  
We are met by Rora, Josef, Vita, Taf, Beet and Clode, as well as the other three's prep teams and stylists. The huddle around us is so huge that they move the two Twelve carriages out of the way. Congratulations are mumbled and meekly accepted. Rora scowls at me and I scowl back. "Where was the smile!? You have such a winning grin," she says, disappointedly. I don't answer.  
We walk up to the elevator with Rora. Tomas is hiding behind Maysilee and Violet is rubbing at her face. Dust covers her fingers. When we get to floor twelve, Rora shows me my quarters and I lock myself in there immediately.  
The room is massive. I run to the shower and watch as the black dust disappears as gloopy black paint down the drain. I spend half an hour in the shower as I'm going to die in a few weeks so I might as well. Then, I get out and choose some black trousers and a blue shirt. I pull them on, and shake the remaining droplets of water out of my hair. I spot a strange machine on the wall. Frowning, I stand in front of it and press the great red button on the front. A gust of air blows into my face, which shocks me at first, but then I begin to smile. I stand there for a minute, the air drying my hair for me, until it stops. I look up at the mirror above and and laugh at my hair, which is now sticking up in every direction. I flatten it down. Then Rora calls me for dinner.  
Everyone is there. All our stylists and prep teams and Rora and Josef. A massive table has been laid for us all and I tuck in as soon as I sit down. A woman in a white dress offers me a drink and I graciously accept. Then she yawns. I am shocked to see she has no tongue. But she notices me staring and claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes flicker to Rora, who shakes her head.  
"Avoxes! Always sleeping on the job. Get me some more bread, girl, and go to bed earlier tonight!"  
The woman nods and hurries out of the room. I stare after her... Why did she have no tongue? And what is an Avox?  
The rest of the meal is taken up on discussing strategies for the games. The same thing is repeated over and over, so I turn back to my food. Find water, find water, find water. Cover. Food. Weapons. You don't say? We're only fighting for our lives.  
The evening passes slowly and I find myself getting more tired the more I eat. Eventually we are dismissed and I head for my room. Tomorrow is a big day, after all. First day of training.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Today I am going to meet the 47 kids who are going to die. Or 46, if you include me. Of course you would. I don't have much chance of leaving the arena alive.  
The teams and tributes meet for breakfast. I make sure I eat plenty today. I'm going to need the energy.  
Rora escorts us into the training room. It's massive and equipped with every sort of weapon a man who was readying for a battle could dream on. Melees, machetes, swords, bows and arrows. There are stations for building and climbing and fires. A lady stands in the middle and coughs to hush the 48 sullen voices that fill the room like ominous gases.  
"Welcome to the Training Room! What you learn here over the next three days will decide your fate in the arena. In two weeks, forty seven of you will be dead." There is a murmur of scared and battle- ready voices. I look up to see the Careers looking at me. Great. "Hush, hush. Do not study what you know well. Learn knew things. Your time begins now."  
I start for the table that shows you what you can eat and where to find things that won't poison you on the first day. I'm joined by a girl I remember as Tula, from Eleven. She's tall and well built, and she catches me staring at her.  
"Oh, hello. I'm-"  
"Tula, yes, I remember." I supply. Her look of approving has a sort of finality to it. Like she's considering me.  
"Glad to see you learnt it. No one else here has bothered." I nod. She looks at me and tilts her head. "Why?"  
"Why what?"  
"Why do you know my name?"  
I hesitate. "I... Want to remember everyone who dies."  
I've said the wrong thing. Her face contorts, in pain maybe,but then she smiles. "Yeah, right. Nice technique." She asks nothing more.  
We work together on learning what berries we can eat. I steer clear of some berries that have skin as smooth as the night sky, because I've seen what they do. Tula obviously hasn't, and she goes to eat one.  
"Tula! No-" I slap her hand away. Her eyes widen. The person manning the food station laughs.  
"Good eyes, boy. Fortunately, that's just an imitation, a placebo injected with a knock out serum. Not the most pleasant of feelings, but it won't kill you. Not yet!" He grins. Tula looks at me.  
"Thanks," she nods.  
Together, we walk over to the station full of firewood, and begin to kindle a flame. I manage it immediately, and Tula follows short. Then she looks up and catches my eye.  
"Haymitch. Want to be... Allies?"  
"No." I answer straight away. I've already considered this. She looks hurt. "No, I mean, I don't want to watch someone I know die. I can't face that." Her face forms into an understanding look, and she nods.  
"We'll, let's stick together in here. I've a few things to show you."  
Tula teaches me to climb trees. She shows me what branches are safe to step on, and how to land and not break your neck if you fall. I show her how to throw knives, and although she's not as good as I am, she catches on fast. We reach the end of our turn and she looks at me.  
"Best part ways, then."  
I agree. She wishes me luck and I turn my back.  
At the knots station there are three tributes from One, and all four from Three. They bare their teeth as I approach, but I hold my head high and braid a piece of rope into a net. They watch, eyes wide, and I smirk. But stop as Doj glares at me. I move on.  
I come to the edible food stage again, as I have nothing else to do, and Violet is there. With Tomas. I smile at her as she catches my eye, and she squeals and looks away. I look at Tomas just as he raises a nightlock berry to his lips and swallows. There's a bang and a miniature cannon goes off as he collapses. Violet squeals again and immediately bursts out crying. The trainer behind the table laughs so hard his glasses fall off his nose.  
"Violet, it's ok! It's ok, he'll live," I say hurriedly and glare up at the man. He stops and gives me a harrowing stare. Great, he'll be putting a word in for me with the gamemakers.  
Violet only stops crying when Tomas comes to, the red juice still staining his lips. I've lost precious time but I will not let the gamemakers overpower these young children.  
The three days leach on painfully as I watch the forty seven other kids murder fabric dummies with spears and set fire to sticks. The majority of the tributes here know what they are doing, but the younger children cling to each other. There's one girl from Seven who has no one to cling to. I almost feel sorry for her when I remember it's no use because she's going to die anyway.  
I work my way around the stations lazily until the last day. I shift some weights with the two boys from Six, but don't speak a word to them. I'm throwing my last spear when the bell rings signalling the end of training.  
I eat lunch in silence. It's not easy to be sociable when every eye in the training centre is trained to kill you. The food is nice, and I eat steadily as to not over stuff myself. And then, after forty minutes of eating the finest food I'll ever taste, they start calling the tributes in for the private sessions.  
There are twice as many tributes this year so obviously, it will take twice as long. I sigh and carry on eating because most likely I'll be fourth from last, as Twelve is the last district in line, and I'm the oldest boy. The wait is agonising and by the time they've reached Seven I'm almost asleep with my chin rested on a bread roll. Tomas is in fact asleep, his head rested on the table and his mouth lolling open. Violet and Maysilee stare into the distance, Maysilee hugging her knees and Violet absent mindedly twirling her finger in her hair. I exhale for the thousandth time in twenty minutes and continue waiting.  
No one talks until the last girl from Eleven is called in. Then, Maysilee looks at me. The four of us are the last ones in the room.  
"What will you show them?" I don't reply. I don't want her knowing what I'm good at. "Haymitch!" I shoot her a glare and that shuts her up.  
Fifteen turns of the clock later and I am walking into the room. A great metal door slams behind me. I head straight for the knives, head held high, trying to make a good impression. I toss one up and it sticks in the ceiling. Oops. Not intended... I don't falter and pretend I know exactly what I'm doing. Another knife catches the tail end of the other and they both fall, crashing straight into a dummy's head that swings from a rope below them. I grin. I turn, crouch and toss a knife up at the dummy's heart so it swings violently on its rope. Ducking completely, I lie beneath it and sever the rope with another knife as it swings out. I flip upwards and fling another knife at another dummy. I'm laughing, having way too much fun, then I notice I'm the centre of attention. The head gamemaker stands up, and thanks me. I leave the room feeling exhilarated.  
That evening, I join everyone for dinner with a smile on my face. I know I shouldn't have my hopes up but the thrill of those knives is still replaying in my head. Rora asks why I'm so happy but I just shake my head. I catch Josef's eye and smile. We leave the table after a delicious meal of duck and orange and go to watch the scores.  
As per normal, now, the mandatory program viewing takes twice as long. In the time that it takes to get to Eleven's scores I allow myself to think of Mom, Tomas and Clara for the first time since the Justice building back home. I wonder what they think of all they've seen so far, including my competition and my training. That moment of 'weakness' with Tomas and the nightlock. I twist the ring on my finger and sit up as my face appears on the screen.  
"Haymitch Abernathy. Nine."  
Nine!  
I grin. That's a great score, for me. For a district twelve tribute. Not as good as the four tens that have been scored but good enough for me.  
I stay glued to the screen as Tomas scores a four, Violet a five and Maysilee a seven. The stylists, prep teams and Rora and Josef give us all a round of applause. I hear Rora mumble "good enough" under her breath.  
I go to bed easily that night, and dream of Clara and home.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Yesterday's good mood has worn off by the morning. Our 'good enough' training scores seem like years ago as Josef approaches me at breakfast.  
"Since you're the oldest, I thought to ask you first. Training for the interviews- alone or together?" He asks.  
"Alone." I say straight away.  
"Right." He nods and walks away.  
The Games start in two days. Our interviews, which will happen tomorrow night, finalise our last few days of life. Rora will teach us presentation, and Josef content. I head up with Josef to a closed off room. We have two hours, because Josef said although its usually four, it'd last too long with the amount of tributes. Which makes sense, really.  
Sitting down on the sofa, Josef turns to me. He pats the space beside him and I tentatively sit.  
"So, Haymitch. What approach are we going for?" I frown, not quite understanding. He adjusts himself in his seat. "How are you going to present yourself?"  
The discussion progresses slowly. Eventually, with about twenty minutes to go, we decide on the sullen look that I started off with at the train station when we arrived at the Capitol. Which is easy for me, as it means no smiling and being nice. We do a few practice questions which he's happy with. By the end of our meeting, Josef is smiling softly. It leads me to wonder how he ever killed anyone to win his games.  
"Good luck, Haymitch. I know the odds are not in your favour entirely, so I won't say that. But I will say, unhappy Hunger Games!" He laughs, and I give him my best frown. His niceness could never come from brutal killing.  
With Rora, it is entirely different. My two hours is her last in the day and she's obviously worn out. She sighs as I enter, scowling, so I perk up a bit, for her sakes.  
First of all she puts me in a crisp suit that restricts my movements so much I feel unsafe.  
"Sit," she demands, pointing to a chair with a very tall back. I slouch over and plonk down, putting my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands. She gives an exasperated cry and I jerk upright. "No! No no no no. Try again." We do this eight to ten times until she's slightly happier with my posture. Then we work on my walk, and I just about get my back up straight by the time the bell rings and the day of work ends.  
I go to bed and tonight I dream of nothing, but wake up shaking. The interviews are later and today is a day of prepping.  
I enter the prep room to see Taf, Beet and Vita grinning at me. "Nine!" They all chorus, and I nod. I allow them to scrub at me, turning my skin into an acceptable colour and my hair into a soft state. My nails are in a uniform shape at the end and I feel like I've been through the coal mines at home, my body is so raw. They put makeup on me this time, and I feel stupid, but when they're done I look so much better. Clode comes in and pulls a pair of jet black trousers on me and a crisp grey shirt over my head. Then comes the pot of coal dust, but I'm prepared this time. Although it's not coal. Clode reaches up to my head and sprinkles orange dust into my hair. I look into the mirror and it sparkles in the white light of the lab- like prep room. It almost creates the effect of a dull glow on hot coals. Clode seems pleased with his work so I allow him a smile. He ushers the prep team away and pulls me to the side.  
"I want you to be amazing. Okayyyyy?" He grins. I shake my head. "Why not? They love you. You'reeee..." He leans on the 'e' and looks me up and down. "I won't deny it. You're attractive. Work it with the lady sponsors. Smoulder!" He throws his hands up and I almost huff in disgust. But secretly, I think, it could work.  
It's my turn now, and I'm nervous. Up on the stage is Caesar Flickerman. He was recruited fifteen years ago as the interviewer and presenter and he's about as bubbly as a man could be. He looks way too young for this job. I bet he'd been bullied into it.  
Tula leaves the stage, then it's my turn. I hear Caesar's voice booming my name and I walk on to moderate applause. There are murmurs from the front rows which I try not to allow distract me. So I walk with the gait Rora trained into me and sit, slouched forwards. I can almost hear her screaming.  
"Haymitch Abernathy, everyone! Thank you, thank you!" The applause dies down and Caesar looks at me. "So. Haymitch. Quite a huzzah at your reapings, shall we say?" Hushed voices radiate about the audience but Caeser waves them away. I know they're all remembering what I am. "Your mother, eh? Trying to volunteer. Brings a tear to my eye." He wipes away a tear that I know isn't there, and anger bubbles up inside me. Then I realise it's my turn to speak.  
"Yes. Quite a... Huzzah." Is all I can manage. But Caesar covers up for me.  
"Indeed... Indeed. And the others in your district... Not a peep, but from Maysilee's sister. Ah, but this is about you! How are you, knowing you're up against almost twice as many as you would have been last year?"  
"Unsurprised." This brings a sigh of confused noises from the crowd. But I stay unswayed in my motion to not speak much. To add to the affect, I run my hands through my hair, but only too late remembering the coal ember dust. It falls around my shoulders and gives a dazzling effect.  
"I see! And the girl, back at home-"  
"Clara."  
"Clara, yes, Clara. She is your..."  
"Fian- girlfriend." I cover up, too late. Caesar raises an eyebrow but doesn't question it.  
"Excellent, excellent, well, I hope you told her you'd see her soon." I nod, rolling my sleeves up, as if uninterested. "Any last thing to say to the sponsors?"  
"Think about who dies."  
"Aaaaaand that's all we've got time for! Thank you, Haymitch Abernathy!"  
As I walk offstage I know I said the wrong thing. Rora glares at me again, but Josef just claps me on the back and we turn to watch the other's interviews.  
Maysilee looks beautiful. I'll say that much, to myself. Her dress is black, of course, miner's colours. But it fits her curves snugly and the top cuts off around her neck. It is netted around the sleeves with red sparkles and makes my suit look amateur.  
Tomas becomes a wisp of a child, dwarfed by the stage in the interview chair. His movements are jerking, as if he's terrified the games may suddenly start now. His answers are quiet and cut off, then that's it. The last stage of the public preparations is complete. Caesar thanks the audience and reminds them that the games begin tomorrow. Not that they need it.  
We head up to our floor, and then watch the replays in the sitting room. I look stupid, not sexy, and my comment about who dies is rewarded by a shocked look from members of the audience that I did not notice before. I bury my head in my hands for the rest of it.  
Then, it's goodbye to Rora and Josef. Tomorrow morning we will be up early for preparation and they will be gone, straight to the Games Headquarters to sign the sponsors. The games start at ten.  
Rora approaches me with a smile that's as fake as Clode's face shape, which falls from her face when she reaches me.  
"Do district Twelve proud, hey, Haymitch? Keep an eye out for Violet and Tomas. Don't let them starve."  
"Sure, Rora." Then the smile returns, and it's real this time.  
"Happy hunger games, Haymitch. And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She hugs me and then trots away, hair hitched up by her thighs.  
Josef comes to me then, after a teary goodbye to Maysilee. He brings me to the side, away from the kerfuffle.  
"Haymitch, you can get weapons. Go to the Cornucopia. You're the only one I've said this to-" he allows himself a sleeting glance at Tomas and Violet, who are crying, clasping each other. "Be fast. Sprint. If you're injured, abandon it. You can fashion yourself a weapon, I know you can-"  
"But, I..." I protest but Josef pushes my raised arms to my sides and looks me in the eye.  
"Haymitch, you have to survive. Get water. Food. Find shelter. Kill if you have to." Rora appears to drag Josef away and he smiles. "Good luck, Haymitch." I nod, and that's it. They're gone for good.  
I head up to my room and shower. The hot water calms my nerves and I order a bowl of broth when I'm done, although I've already eaten. I want to last as long as I can. I quench my thirst and settle down in bed, twisting Clara's ring on my finger as I fall into a restless slumber.  
In the morning, I slide into some stretchy trousers and a loose shirt. Clode comes to take me to the roof, on which there is a hovercraft waiting. What little food I've been able to eat this morning is only safe from reappearing as I am frozen on the ladder as I'm transported upwards. A tracker is injected into my arm, which hurts, but I'm far more worried about how much a dagger through the heart will hurt than that.  
An hour later, the windows black out, suggesting that the arena is near. Sure enough, in ten minutes, I'm climbing down a tube into the Launch room. I shower when I get there, comb through my hair, and clean my teeth. I dress in a pair of sleek black trousers, with huge buttoned pockets on the sides and the knees. The shirt is simple, and white, with a brown undervest. That and the thick green coat I'm given suggests its going to be cold in the area. Oh, we'll. I'm used to that.  
Clode and I sit through the remaining minutes in silence on a sofa. I stare at the launch tube, twisting my ring, until a bell rings and a female voice announces that there are two minutes until launch. I hug Clode goodbye and stand on my platform. In no time at all it is rising and I see the bright light of day.


	6. Chapter 6- the Bloodbath

The clock starts as soon as my plate clicks into place. I waste no time, and begin surveying my surroundings. The Cornucopia sits in the centre of a clearing, as usual, but it is ringed by a circle of a deadly looking fluid. From here, I can see it spitting green, streaming flecks of itself onto the surrounding grass. The ground sizzles at the contact. I wince.  
Further out, we are surrounded by an oval of trees. They're almost jungle- like, curving from the bottom and reaching very high. The lush greenery drips with recent... Rain? I can hear birds, just slightly under the booming countdown.  
Forty.  
I allow myself a glance round at my competition. I can see Maysilee and Tula, but not Tomas and Violet. The ring of tributes stretches all the way around the Cornucopia, which is a shame for them, which means they won't get to the mouth fast enough. I'm luckily positioned slightly off to the left of the opening so I plan my sprint to the weapons pile right by me through to the trees ahead.  
Thirty.  
In the pile I see knives. Perfect. What luck! There's a backpack too, and a pouch. I decide to grab them and hide in the trees to watch the bloodbath.  
Twenty.  
Every tribute is in a stance, ready to sprint, apart from two girls next to Tula who are turning on their plates.  
Ten.  
I breathe out, and swallow.  
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.  
The gong hits and my heart thumps as loud as the hammer of running feet. I take off, swipe the backpack and pouch and sling the knife sheath over my shoulder. Running, I pull one out and hold it to the ready. I realise then that several tributes still haven't left their pedestals and are staring at the trees. While I run, I watch a girl's feet get pulled out from beneath her and a sword enter her heart. But I continue. I'm approaching another pile of stuff on my course for the trees and I'm about to grab it when my path is intercepted by two fighting tributes. A girl... From One. And a boy from Six. They don't notice me when I approach them so I reach around the girl and slit her neck. She drops, and the boy gives me a fleeting look before sprinting off with my extra pack. It's that easy. My first kill. I decide to brave grabbing another pack, which is clear, and I can see it holds two apples and a flask. It's slightly off course but I throw caution to the wind and grab it. Bodies tumble about me and I witness a neck being broken right before me. I up my speed but am not fast enough to dodge a spear catch the edge of my shoulder. I don't asses it as I leave the Cornucopia and run into the trees. I sprint around the tree line a little to throw anyone who might have seen my exit off my trail. Then, I pick a tree and scale it.  
Below me I see a mass of moving bodies. I'm low enough to see faces. I still don't survey my wound because although I can feel it bleeding, I know it's not deep. I count the quickly growing piles of kids on the floor... Twelve, so far. I can't count how many are still fighting, there are too many and they move too fast. I wince as another small form takes an axe in the forehead. Then I realise it's Violet and I slap my hand to my mouth. I can see from here that Tula is battling a larger form and will her on. It's Doj. I cringe at her odds but stay silent.  
Tula receives an arm wound from Doj's machete. She falters but slips away under his raised arm as he poses for another blow. Grabbing a pack with her uninjured arm she disappears into the trees.  
The bloodbath continues and cries splinter the air. Blood wells on the ground, like the grass is bleeding. A figure sprints from his hiding place in the trees near me and I cry out at his stupidity. Luckily, he's the only one who hears me, and he looks up. I don't know who it is, but I recognise him. He's no older than twelve, thirteen. I shake my head but he turns around, falters, and slips into the green acid surround the tail end of the Cornucopia. There's a fizzle, he thrashes about, shrieking. I see a boney hand that reaches up for assistance but then it disappears and he's gone. My lip wavers but there's no doubt I may be getting a couple of seconds on camera among the fighting so I don't dare let my feelings show.  
A girl runs towards the mouth of the Cornucopia. I can't tell which district she's from but she's fast. She leaps over the acid, and a couple of flecks hit her trousers. She ignores it. I can hear the sound of it burning already. The girl grabs a crossbow and some ammo from a pile and inspects it. Then I see another girl appear at the mouth, she must have been in the Cornucopia. Hiding. In her hand is a contraption and I can't tell what it is. The girl is Maysilee, I realise, just as the other girl realises that she's not alone. In a second, both girls have their weapons raised, but neither shoot. I watch, confused, as they back into the Cornucopia slightly. No one notices them, though, and the battle still goes on. I watch them lower their weapons and shake hands. Good. Maysilee will not be alone.  
From then on, I don't pay attention to who dies. The battle goes on for another half hour, and by then I've checked my wound. It's stopped bleeding.  
I turn my attention back to the bloodbath. There are nine Careers standing among the mess of bodies. The girl from One that I killed and two from Three are not there. I realise that Colina, the strong girl and Luciana, are the two from Three that are still standing. That means the two brothers from Three are dead.  
I count the cannon blasts. Twenty one. Twenty one kids who will be shipped back home in a casket to their families. Well, it will be twenty, as the boy who fell in the acid... Well, there's not much left of him. Twenty six kids up against me.  
I leave my tree quietly and begin my trek through the jungle. It's beautiful, really, and I admire the view as I walk. I'm in no rush, although I should be, because most likely the majority of escapees stuck around to watch the battle unfurl, like me. But I encounter no one.  
While I stroll, I look closely at the leaves. I can't identify what trees they are but when I go to touch part of the greenery I pull my hand back, fast. The leaf has brought an immediate rash to my hand, but it doesn't hurt. I inspect it, then inspect the leaf; only to find it is outlined with a sprinkling of golden, tiny spikes. They're the same colour as my ring. The rash doesn't seem deadly but I make note not to climb any of these trees.  
A bird lands directly in my path. I draw my knife and toss it, beheading the bird before its reached a foot off the ground. Grinning, I pick it up. It's small, with most of the size being taken up by the wings, but it'll do great for a first meal. However, I can't cook it till nightfall.  
The substance that was dripping from the leaves is completely gone and all around me is bone dry. I know I'll have to find water soon. I choose a non-spiky tree to climb and position myself high up in the thicket of leaves. The branches are thin, but sturdy, and I grab onto a vine and tug. Steadfast.  
I open my first pack. It contains a bowl, a packet of iodine tablets for purifying water, a spoon, three bandages, a packet of twelve painkillers and a packet of crackers. I laugh at the fact that the gamemakers have given me the wonders of eating utensils. Of all the things I'll need.  
The pouch I grabbed contains a small box of raisins and another of grain, and a long, thin tube. Frowning, I look over the tube closely. A tiny piece of it breaks away in my hand and crumbles. When the fragments hit the floor they burst into flames, which I stamp out in a mad panic. However, no smoke is released from the slightly grey flames and I smile. I decide to experiment, and kick together a pile of dry leaves. I break off a tiny bit and sprinkle it on and immediately there's fire. No smoke whatsoever is released. It doesn't spread, and it doesn't make a sound. I place my hand above it and sure enough, it's blisteringly hot, so I whip my hand away. I pluck and gut my bird and roast it. It's delicious.  
Kicking out my fire, I repack my bags and head on my way.  
I'm thinking I'm incredibly lucky to get what I did when I come across the boy. He's in a small clearing, sat on the floor. I don't know what district he's from, but it doesn't matter, because at that point he notices me. He springs to his feet and then I'm aware he's barrelling towards me. I unsheath two of my knives and let one fly, whilst grabbing another. Then I notice his two two-and-a-half foot long swords in his hands. Swallowing, I decide not to give up chase and face my opponent. I notice a limp and he's injured. I decide to use this as an advantage and dodge his swings, kicking at his injured leg. He lets out a howl, momentarily distracted, and I shove him backward. He lands on his back, and I see that his wound is bad. It's gushing blood from between one of his hands but the other stays gripping a sword. He kicks at me. I stagger backward, and in that time he gets to his feet, lashing out at me. I see my knife sticking from a nearby tree and sprint to retrieve it. But in my rush he catches me with his remaining sword on the arm, just lower than my previous shoulder wound. I cry out. The pain is blinding, if only for a second. I throw my knife, as he hit my less powerful arm, and it sticks in his other leg. He falls backwards, releasing his sword, and hitting his head on a tree. There's a sickening crack as I hear his skull shatter, then the cannon blows. He's dead.  
I grab at his pack and leave, but already his and the girl from One's deaths are digging at my mind. What will Clara think of my cold blooded killing? The boy, I killed in self defence. The girl, though... I shake it off. The thought will never be completely buried but this is the hunger games. If I want to marry Clara I must think nothing more of it.  
I know my arm is bleeding heavily, but I'm so pumped on adrenaline that I don't feel it much. However, I know if I lose much more blood I'll pass out so I stop.  
I have no idea how to dress a wound, and have no way of cleaning it. So I find a soft leaf and precariously wipe away all the blood I can before wrapping one of my bandages around it. I swallow one of my painkillers dry because I know it'll hurt later.  
I walk continuously for one more hour, and I've still found no sign of water. I stop to rest and examine the boy's pack.  
In it are two extra knives, one serrated and the other long, with both sides sharp. There's a blanket and a wooly hat, and a small loaf of bread. I thank the boy silently and place my haul back in the pack. That's when the rain starts. It's a sweet, pleasant smell of water on leaves that warns me it's coming. I quickly place my bottle under one of the biggest nearby leaves, and cover it with some leaves. I walk about five minutes and search for cover. Luckily, there's a huge rock jutting out from a mound of dirt, and it's mostly concealed by hanging vines. Perfect.  
I make quick work out of making a place to rest. The rain is not too heavy and I can still see most of my surroundings. It smells overly sweet so I tell myself to wait till morning so I can purify it. Tomorrow will be a search for a pond, or a small brooke. I'm just drifting off to sleep when the anthem plays and the Capitol seal appears. Twenty two faces appear, and I swallow hard when I see the young boy who was burned. They flicker through fast, and then Violet appears. Which means Maysilee is alive. Good.  
I slide under my blanket and pull on my hat as the night and the chill slips in. I fall under a troubled sleep and dream of Clara.

* * *

_I'm sorry for forgetting to mention that this story is going to be the most detailed as the games progress. The beginning, I felt, was obligatory, but I wasted no time on it. To be honest, I couldn't wait to start writing this. Please tell me what you think as this is my first proper story which I aim to complete. -Queenjawn_


	7. Chapter 7- Day Two

Chapter 7

When I wake I have no idea what time it is. It's blisteringly hot out and there is not one drop of rain to be seen. By my guesses it's about midday, which is bad, because that means the Careers are at the height of the day and searching for a kill. They will have gathered their supplies and left for a hunt. Which means I have to keep moving.  
I reach my water bottle and dig it out from its cover. I grin when I see it's full to the brim, but don't drink it although I'm parched. I drop a tablet into it and then start to hunt.  
I see a bird almost as soon as I turn round. Tossing my knife, I miss the kill, but it catches the animal's wing. The bird lets out a piercing scream, like an alarm, and I freeze. If that's not called the Careers then I don't know what will. I pick up my still-purifying water and sprint, losing a quarter of the bottle as I attempt to fasten the lid. I curse as I run, which hastens me to pick up speed. Then I crash into someone.  
The collision sends me tumbling down a small hill that I didn't see ahead of me. I scramble, trying to get up, when the kid lands on me. I push the body off, and I can't tell what state they're in until I get up. Then I realise it's Tomas. And he's out cold.  
My frustration almost makes me yell. I now have to look after another person. I mean, I can't just leave him here, to die... Can I? I shake my head to clear it. No. He's my district partner so I should help him in some way, if I can. But I vow not to make an alliance to him, give him food when he's roused and send him on his way. I can't watch him die.  
Then I consider killing him. It's foul of me, I know, but he'll die anyway in here, I know that too. If he's knocked out he won't feel it if I do it quick. But most likely if the Careers find him they won't make his death quick. Then I think of his family. We all have a couple of losses in our lives, don't we? It's inevitable. It happens. I draw my knife, look at his slumbering face and drop it. I can't do it. I can't kill him.  
I drag him to the foot of a tall tree that is big enough to hide him behind. Leaning him against it, I examine his head, but only find a small wound. It's bleeding slightly so I wet a bandage and dab at it gently. There's nothing I can do now but wait.  
All this vigorous movement has brought me to my senses and my arm hurts, a lot. I sit, and peel the bandage off. I wince at the sight of the gash, which is very deep, much deeper than I thought. I use the other bandage to mop up the excess blood, and look longingly to the sky. Ruffle my hair. Look at Tomas. Before long, a parachute lands at my feet. Yes! I silently thank Rora and Josef. District Twelve tributes don't often get gifts. I guess my helping Tomas and killing the girl from One, which helped the boy from Six, all contribute to the amount of sponsors I get.  
I lay out the parachute by my feet and am hit by an overpowering smell as I open the pot. I dip my bloody finger in the white mixture and my finger turns pink. Frowning, I dab some on my spear and sword wounds, and am rewarded with sweet pleasure. The gloopy cream draws out the pain and I feel the heat leaching into the air around me. I reach over to Tomas and dab a bit of the cream on his head. Standing, I flex my arms, and my wounded arm is no longer stiff. I ready myself with my knives and tiptoe forwards. My knife beheads a young wildcat which foolishly crosses my path. I can't believe my luck! Making my way back to Tomas, I skin the thing, and set up a fire at his feet. The cat is almost roasted by the time he wakes up.  
His eyes flicker open and he nearly shouts, until he realises who I am.  
"Haymitch!"  
"Hey."  
He hugs me then, and I am taken aback. I do not want to form any sort of emotional bond with this boy. It would wind up with either or both of us dead.  
"Where's Violet? Maysilee?" He obviously didn't see the seal last night. Great. And of course, he expects me to stick with my fellow district tributes.  
"Tomas, Violet is dead. Maysilee has an ally."  
He gasps at this. I don't know what he was expecting. A tear appears in his eye and I begin to regret my decision even more. Why didn't I just hide him until he came to?  
"Oh..." Then he sees my wildcat is beginning to burn over the unsmoking fire. I cut off some for him and then start on some for myself. We eat in silence.  
Once we've eaten, I put the apples in the other pack and place the rest of the cat in the see through bag. Then, I have second thoughts, and split the apple in half. We share it because I don't think we'll starve. I have a small sip of my quickly diminishing water and we begin to walk.  
"Haymitch?"  
"Yes?" I know what's coming.  
"Haymitch, you know you said Maysilee-"  
"No."  
"What?"  
"No. We can't be allies. You'll slow me down." He looks hurt so I cover it up. "I don't want you to die. I'm gonna try hunt some people." His face distorts into a scared demeanour and he backs away. "Don't worry, not you. Let's walk for a bit more, then we can part ways." He nods, and sniffs. "What supplies did you get?"  
"Well, I managed to grab a backpack. There's not much in there." He opens his back and I examine it with one hand. "See? I wanted to get out quick." So he's not stupid, then. Just not completely clever. In his pack he has a bag of dried fruit, a pair of ear muffs and a knife. At least he has a weapon.  
"Hey, keep the knife to hand. You never know when you might need it." He grabs it and closes the pack.  
We stop in a clearing two hours later. My water is gone, the blistering hot day meant we needed replenishments constantly. I decide to leave him here.  
"Tomas, I'm going to go now. I need to move on."  
"Alright," he nods. He moves to hug me and after a second I hug him back. "See you soon, Haymitch."  
"Right." I undo my bag. "Wait, you can have some of this." I give him some wildcat because I have plenty. Then I smile and he turns his back. I turn away, too, but then he screams. I whip around to see two females running at us. I know immediately that they're from Four. One of them holds a trident, raised, the other has a spear in one hand and a sword in the other. Tomas sprints behind me and holds his knife ready. Brave of him. I would've run.  
"Duck!" I scream as the girl's trident comes sailing towards my head. It misses and buries itself into the tree behind me. The girl grabs a knife from her belt and throws. I throw mine, knocking hers off course. Luckily I have four more knives, as well as the two in my pack. I charge at the armed girl and leave the unarmed girl for Tomas. I believe he can fight her. The girl lunges down with her sword and I jump, both feet landing on the blade. It clatters from her hand and I twist, narrowly missing her flying spear. She is now unarmed but she reaches to grab my wrists. Her grip is tight, and I can't release her to grab my knife. I'm stuck. We wrestle, and I hear a dull thud from my right. This distracts the girl momentarily and I pull one arm free and throw a punch at her head. It knocks her back, stunned, and she releases my other hand. I jump and kick her in the gut, and she doubles over. I pick up her sword and she grabs one of my knives. I swing at her, and she blocks the blows with my small knife, with precision. She's good, I'll give her that, but I've not had much practice with a sword. As we fight one hand reaches into my pouch and I draw out the tube. This fight is going nowhere and I can tell Tomas is hurt so I break a bit of the tube off and throw it into the girls' face. She cringes back, shrieking, and I silence her throat with the sword. Her face is still burning as she hits the ground. A cannon blows and the other girl whips round, leaving Tomas to drop to his knees. He's clutching his stomach and as I ready myself to fight her she buries her trident into his heart. I yell. She turns to me as Tomas' cannon blows and throws her trident. I parry the blow with my sword and stick it through her stomach. She falls, cradling her wound, and the cannon goes off. And there is silence.  
I'm alone again. Three bodies surround me, and though it pains me, I take Tomas' pack. Then I grab the two girl's packs and run. Down. I'm not going to the Cornucopia, I wouldn't be that stupid. But water runs down and I need water. I scale a tree, first, and look through the packs. I don't want to carry too much so stuff Tomas' fruit, earmuffs and knife into my main back, and put the wildcat back into the see through one. The girls had a pack of spare spearheads, a sword sharpener, more crackers, and a small trident. I put the crackers into my bag as well and then bury the rest, as I don't want to carry too much, and have no use for it. Already my bag weighs me down. I decide not to hunt as I walk but keep my knife at the ready just in case. I look at the serrated knife, closely, and it feels natural in my hand. At home I worked at the butchers so learned easily how to handle a knife and clean a kill. I hated that place, it always smelt so strongly of death. It was pungent with rotted uneaten flesh, although the food we got was the not-completely-past it stuff, so that was okay. My brother hated the meat. He complained every day, felt sorry for them, never went into the back room at the butcher's. He follows my mother around behind the counter, learning how to sell. I do the dirty work. District Twelve is no place to be picky. Clara looked past it, though. She only looked at me.  
I find the hill Tomas and I fell down and discover a patch of old blood. Must have been from my arm as I fell. I cover it up and trek up and over the hill, and continue going down. My wounds have reduced drastically and the spear wound is gone all together. The gash the sword made is now no more than a mediocre cut. It's still open, though, so I fasten my last clean bandage around it.  
The ground levels out. There must be a pond around here, as I see several ground rodents scuttling about in the undergrowth. They would only be here if they had somewhere to replenish themselves. I search around, giving myself a twenty metre radius. Before long I find a small pool of water. There are huge fish swimming in it, and the fish to pond size ratio is so large it's almost comical. They barely fit as they swim around. They look safe, so after I've filled my bottle and purified it, I skewer one with my double sided knife. I don't need any more food, particularly; but these fish are so large and my need for something not-meaty wins my favour. I go ahead and cook one over some of my magical fire, and put it in my bowl. Then I have an idea. I chop the fish small, tiny in fact, and put it in the bowl. Boil some water with it. Add some thyme I find, which is strange because thyme doesn't grow in jungles. I have fun making my stew, and as it cooks I refill my water bottle.  
I eat my stew with a smile. It's really nice and gives me a surge of strength. I lick the bowl clean and then repack my things, and kick dirt over my fire. I climb up a tree as the darkness sets in. The Capitol seal and anthem appear. Only three people appear tonight, the two girls and Tomas. I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 8- Day Three

Chapter Eight

I open my eyes and the first thing I do is throw up. All of yesterday's food and water splatter the side of the tree I'm in, and the momentum throws me from the tree. I fall, panicking, but catch onto a lower branch. If I had fallen straight down I would've broken my neck for sure. I hang there, coated in vomit and shaking, and my weak arm gives. I fall the remaining six feet and land on my back.  
I lay there for a minute, regaining my senses. I've a horrible taste in my mouth so I have a mouthful of water to rinse it out. I pull off my soiled shirt and dunk it in the water, and put it back on wet because it's so blisteringly hot. Then I finish off the rest of my water and refill it. I decide to use a bit of the bandage that's left over to scrub the vomit off my trousers. Then I hear a scream off to my left.  
It's a boy's scream, I know that, and also that there's no hope for him because the cannon fires. The fact I heard the scream means that the Careers are probably nearby. I take off, swiping up my bags and knives. I run to my right, down the tree line, but do not progress down towards the Cornucopia as I now intended. Most likely the Careers will be heading back there and I do not want to get caught up with them. I wanted to survey their situation, see if they've turned the acid into a weapon. I don't get far before I vomit again, but it's only bile that surfaces as the rest of my dinner remains on the side of my tree. As I retch, I hear the cannon fire again. The careers are on a roll today. I will find out tonight who died at the hands of their weapons.  
I keep walking and decide to halve the remaining wildcat. I'll have half now, and half later. I eat it slowly, hesitantly feeding myself and testing my stomach. I don't know what caused me to be sick but I think it may have been the fish. This thought urges me to stop and dig the rest of the fish out of my pack. I hurl it to the side, not caring that someone will see a fish on the jungle floor and wonder why it's away from the water. I don't care. I want someone to follow me. I want someone to fight.  
I trek in a straight line for about an hour, knives drawn. I've quickly favoured the double sided knife as it can do a lot more harm than a throwing knife. It remains in my right hand, my dominant one, and in the other, I have one of my own. A twig snaps behind me and I whirl around, not thinking, and release a knife. Tula shrieks and ducks, and my knife lodges itself into a tree. Luckily she was far away enough to have enough time.  
"Tula!"  
"Haymitch-"  
"I'm so sorry, I thought..." I apologise and run to retrieve my knife.  
"It's fine, it's fine. Are you okay?" She puffs. She's obviously been running.  
I nod. "Are you?" She nods too, then turns around. In her hand she has a short sword, but she doesn't look comfortable holding it. There is blood running from the side of her temple. "What happened?" I ask, taking a step closer. She doesn't turn back to me, but watches the trees with wide eyes.  
"Those cannons. They were my allies."  
"Oh god, I'm so sorry..." She turns around then. Tears run in tracks through the blood on her face. Then her stomach growls so loud we both hear it.  
"I'm okay. It's...okay."  
"Look," I say, pulling my bag down off my back. "I've got food. Have some." I know I'm probably being too generous with my food but I can easily get more. And also, Tula's so thin she looks like a stick, and it's only the third day. Her eyes light up as I produce the remains of the wildcat. "Eat up. It's gonna go off soon." She accepts it gratefully. "How come you've not managed to get food? You're district Eleven, you should know how to find it..." I give her the cat.  
"This is a jungle. I work in the orchards," she looks up and around her. "I should've paid more attention in training."  
I agree lightly and then turn my attention to her head. "I've got something for that." I look pointedly at her cut. "How'd it happen?"  
As I dig into my bag for the cream I received, she replies. "I fought off the Careers. The boy from Two is hurt pretty bad." She puts some wildcat into her mouth and sighs.  
"Brave of you," I hand her the cream. She dabs a bit on her forehead and wipes away the blood with her sleeve. "But they'll be after you."  
"That's why I'm going to leave you to it. I don't want you in danger."  
"Ha! Could I be any more in danger?" I nod at my surroundings and laugh.  
Then I fall. I can't get up, I can't control my body. It's like someone has grabbed all of my limbs and are pulling them in different directions. It hurts, so much, and I jerk about. I vomit again, and I've lost control of my eyes. They roll back into my head and I can't see, I want to scream and yell out but I can't. My body convulses and I can tell I'm going to black out. I try so hard not to go under as I hear Tula's panicked voice. I can't tell what she's saying, but from her tone I can tell I do not look good. My back arches and pain sears up my spine. I'm fighting the urge to give in, pass out, but I fear if I do I might not wake up. I feel myself writhing on the jungle floor. I cough up something, which makes me cringe, but you couldn't tell because I can't stop jerking about. The pain is reaching almost unbearable. Then my jaw slacks and it stops.  
I still can't move. I can't move my eyes to look at Tula. She's shaking me, crying, saying my name. I feel her fingers find the spot on my neck where my pulse is surely hammering. Her fingers adjust, quickly, and I want to tell her I'm ok, I'm alive. She panics again, and her fingers find my wrist. In her haze, I think she's forgotten that a cannon fires when someone dies. But I just can't move to remind her. Then her fingers leave me. I can hear her crying, crying for me. It warms my heart. I will myself to move, blink, twitch anything, but I can't. I think she must have remembered the cannon because her hands find my shoulders and heave me into a sitting position. I feel stupid and want to help, but I'm paralysed. Then a cannon fires.  
She's crying again, but it's not me, I'm not dead, I want to tell her. I hear her collapse to the floor. And then I can move.  
The pain is blinding, but I force my eyes to focus on her. Her eyes meet mine and she yelps, leaping to her feet.  
"Haymitch!" I groan and she drops her weapons. She kneels beside me and her hands find my face, pull it straight to face hers. I groan again at the pain and she drops her hands. "I... I... I thought you were... dead."  
I still can't respond, but my body convulses again and I cough up something else. I gingerly move and see that the stuff is green and smells of sickly bile and thyme. Thyme! I knew it! Why would there ever be thyme in a jungle?  
Tula looks disgusted but uses a soft looking leaf to wipe it away. I can't move my lower body but my fingers twitch, and I find I can move my arms. I try to pull myself up into a more comfortable position but I can't. The pain is too much.  
I can see Tula rummaging in my bag. She pulls out my water bottle and holds it to my mouth. I take small sips, gingerly, until I can talk again.  
"That... Cannon..." My voice is rasping and I sound like an old man. Ugh, great.  
"Must have been the boy from Two." She nods. She wipes her tears away. "What caused that episode?!" She laughs, sniffing.  
I clear my throat, which it painful. I've regained all feeling to my arms but my legs still won't move. "I think... It was the thyme."  
"Thyme? In a jungle?" I nod at the green stuff staining my still-wet shirt. "Gross."  
"It was really stupid of me-"  
"I really have to go, Haymitch," she interrupts. "I don't want to see you get killed." Her abrupt statement throws me.  
"Killed? What about you? Aren't you even prepared to be attacked?" There is no response. She gets up and gathers her things, and begins to walk away. "Hey! Wait! You can't just leave me here!"  
She whips around, her face beet red. "No allies, remember? You're as good as dead!"  
This hurts. "Well obviously not seeing as I'm moving already!"  
"Look, Haymitch, I can't drag you about. Say hi to my mum for me."  
"Your mum?"  
"She's dead! Now goodbye!" Tula walks off, fuming.  
"Wait! Tula! You idiot, you'll starve!" I yell foul insults at her until I realise if someone hears me, I can't move, and then I'm certainly good as dead. I sit back, as there's nothing I can do until my legs have regained feeling. Then I have a thought. I put my fingers at the back of my throat and although it's foul, force myself to gag up any remaining food in my system. Then, I reach for my pack, and eat a handful of raisins and a few mouthfuls of water.  
It's getting dark. The night is coming in, chilly as winter, although the days are as hot as mid- July. I don't know what to do, as my legs are frozen and I can't stay here. I pull the blanket over myself.  
After half an hour, I manage to shift my legs to the side slightly. I wince as I do it, but the movement eases them a bit. It's a full hour before I can even twist my ankles.  
The Capitol anthem starts as I'm slowly pulling my knees up to my chest. The first face that appears is one of the boys from Two. Then both of the boys from Eleven. The anthem plays again, and that's it. Tula's the last one from Eleven left, as the other girl died in the Bloodbath. Twenty eight people dead, and I've lost count of who's alive. I'm even struggling to remember the names of them... I can't remember the two girls I killed yesterday, in such cold blood. The thought makes me feel ashamed, and I quickly bury it under thoughts of Clara. I must not let it get to me if I want to get out of here alive.  
Finally, at what must be about midnight, I manage to pull myself to my feet and painfully and shakily climb the tree I was leaning against. I fall into a troubled sleep and dream of Clara.


	9. Chapter 9 Day Four-Five

Chapter Nine

I wake up early because I almost fall out of my tree. It's lucky that when I fall asleep I don't move a muscle, but forgetting where I am, I lose my balance. I grab onto a vine to steady myself. My backpack falls to the ground with a thud. I shimmy down the trunk of my tree, because my legs aren't quite awake yet, which is unsurprising after yesterday's episode. Just as my feet hit my ground, a cannon fires. Then another one. I think nothing of it and shakily pack up my stuff. I should ideally rest and allow my legs to regain their balance, but staying in one place for more than the necessary amount of time is a death sentence.  
I eat some raisins and crackers as I walk. I don't eat the grain I got in my pack, because I don't fancy it just on its own. It's the same ration grain we have at home and I think I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime.  
I draw my knives after I've eaten, and then wish I'd kept that girls' sword sharpener. My blades look a little blunt.  
I'm thinking now that my scores aren't very high. I've killed four people, which would up it a bit, but-  
The thought stops me up short. I've killed four people.  
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself not to think of the families who bay for my blood. It happens every year, and the Capitol allow it. It's opposite to how it used to be in America. Before it was just Panem. Then, you were killed for killing someone. Now, you're encouraged and it's broadcast on national television. It's sick, foul, twisted stuff, and what can we do? Nothing. Our nation is committing mass suicide every year and no one even gives it a second look. Suicide is looked as as an easy way out in Twelve. You live and you suffer for living, or you die in peace and stay in peace. If it weren't for Clara, I'd be dead already.  
And if I wasn't twisting my ring with my free hand, I wouldn't have seen the massive crevice in the jungle floor. Although I see it too late, and I fall. My feet slip, my knives go flying, and I scrabble at thin air for something to grab onto. I go as if in slow motion, and I see my life flashing before my eyes. But then I'm okay.  
I'm okay, but I'm hanging onto the edge of the crevice by the edges of my fingertips. My two good knives are long gone but I'm past caring about them now. My heartbeat is hammering faster than ever, and then I start to slip. And I look down. Looking down is a bad idea. I don't know how I didn't hear the rushing water before, but I hear it now. It's so loud, bursting my ear drums, deafening me. I try to fasten my grip but the water is rising, splashing around my ankles. It's rising very fast, and I start to yell before the water crusades upwards and pushes me out of the crevice.  
I'm flying through the air, so fast, and for a moment I feel stupid. How stupid I must look being pushed up into the air like a bird, helpless, by a vat of pressured water. I fly straight forward, and the whole thing is humiliating, but I can't stop. But then the ground nears, fast, and everything goes black.  
I'm not having much luck in this arena, I think as I wake up. I wait for the vomiting, but nothing happens. I sit up and my head reels so much I have to lie back down again. I put a finger to my face, trail it up the side of my face, and it comes away sticky with blood. I must have been out for a long time, as my clothes are crinkled and dry, baked by the sun. Even my underside I've been lying on shows not one drip of water.  
It's daytime, and by the sun's position I guess about midday. That means I could've been out either a few hours, or a whole day. Great. I've got so much to go on.  
I stay lying down and reach for my pack. Everything in there is dry, too, but I find I've lost my pouch. It's not a massive loss, as I put my fire tube in my main pack, but it means I've lost some of my food. I find my crackers, which are now no good, turned to mush and then baked again. And then I find my cream, and silently thank any god who might be out there. My head hurts, but as soon as I apply the cream the outside pain dulls instantly. Then I allow myself to sit up, slowly, and drink some water. The inside pain seems to be quite drastic, as I can only move in automated, robotic turns, as otherwise it feels as if I might lose my head completely. I bring my hands to my face to wipe off the remaining blood but I stop.  
I look again and it's gone. It's really gone.  
I've lost Clara's ring.  
I'm frantic, but as I try to stand up and look for it, my head sends me reeling again. I ignore it, and begin to search about, lurching as if I'm drunk. Which is peculiar, as I've never been drunk and never intend to, but I know what it looks like, and surely it can't feel much different. You often see some of the peacekeepers at home complaining of murderous headaches.  
I can't see the ring, I can't see it anywhere. I've lost the last thing that I could hold onto until I go home, dead or alive. I sit down, and for the first time since I was a toddler, I cry real tears.  
What a pathetic boy I must look! Crying over a ring. I've lost the sexy hue now, I'm sure of it. But I don't care. All I care about is Clara.  
I cry for a good hour, until my head feels like it's going to burst. I only stop when I see the parachute land in front of me.  
I start to scramble for it, but stop, remembering my head. I do not want to pass out again, not in the afternoon, when the Careers will surely be out and about. The package at the bottom of the parachute is abnormally small. It's a square of plastic no larger than my thumbnail, which is strange. I look at it, shake it. Something rattles inside. I use my bitten nails to pry open the small crack I find in the side, and something even smaller falls out. I look around in the dirt for it, and find it. Holding it up, I inspect it. I know this, I think. It's a tablet. Swallowed with water to make a person in pain, whatever sort, feel better. I look up.  
"Thank you, Josef!" I almost laugh. I down the tablet with the remains of my water supply, and feel a warmth spread through me, from my throat to my toes. The feeling is instantaneous, brilliant, like I've swallowed some of the gas they use to knock you out in the Capitol. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with happiness, which is not right. I know it's not right. I've just lost my only connection with Clara and the only thing I can feel is joy. Pure joy.  
The feeling gives me a motivation of some sort to get up and moving. I don't bother with my knives, because I know if I want to I can punch someone to death. Death. It's a funny thing, like sleeping and not waking up. I wonder if you dream when you are dead? The loss of my pouch and lack of water should have put me down, but who cares? I'm going to the Cornucopia. I can get more.  
I have a spring in my step. I feel so bouncy that I laugh while I walk, at nothing in particular. My head doesn't hurt at all! These pills are brilliant. I'll have to ask Josef for some more.  
It takes me two hours to get to the Cornucopia, which is boring. I sing, but I've never sung before. Then I see the girl running at me. She looks angry.  
"Heeeeeyyyy!" I smile. "What's up...?" But I'm stopped by a poorly aimed knife which sticks in the tree behind me. "Uh! That wasn't nice!" The girl stumbles, clutching her side, and trips forward. "Woah," I say. "You're hurt! Here, let me get your knife." I reach and pull the knife from the tree. I take a step forward. "Here you go!" I release the knife, and it flies forward and sticks in her forehead. The cannon fires. "Oops, you alright?" But then I realise she's dead. This sobers me. Completely.  
I sit down and bury my head in my hands. My life is falling apart in these games, and if I carry on like this, it'll be broken completely.  
I draw two of my throwing knives, which leaves me now with three spare. I need to be extra careful with these, as they are now acting as my life preserve.  
I stand up, and look forwards. I'm about ten metres from the edge of the tree line, so I back up about another fifteen. I need to hunt. I look around and it takes me five minutes to find a strange looking squirrel clinging to a tree. I aim carefully, as although my head no longer hurts I don't doubt there's still some internal damage. One quick throw beheads the thing and its body falls to the ground. I go to retrieve it, then skin and gut it. I set a fire and begin to cook it. I let it roast for longer than it needs, as I don't want another episode like the last one.  
When it's done, I eat the whole thing. It's not big, and I need the energy. Then I stamp out the fire and pack up, beginning my search for water.  
I find a pool right at the edge of the trees. I'm concealed by the vines that hang like a curtain before me, which is convenient. I purify some water and drink the whole bottle, then refill it. While I wait, I climb a tree, a few back from the clearing. I watch the Cornucopia for a while. The Careers have placed all the provisions deep inside the Cornucopia, so much so that all I see are a few stray apples and a sword peeking out from the mouth. They've left it all, there's no one there. I guess they're trusting the acid to ward off, or finish off, any intruder that might threaten their precious supplies. But not me.  
I climb back down and grab my water. I pack up my bags, and secure them extra tight on my back. Then without a second thought I sprint for the Cornucopia.  
Fortunately the distance between the trees and the Cornucopia is far enough to give me a good run-up. I leap over the acid, but some flecks catch my legs. If I'd have jumped any lower, my risky decision would've been fatal, but no matter now. I'm in range of all these glorious knives. I duck into the Cornucopia and begin to search. Then I hear shouts.  
It's the Careers, I know that from the booming voice of Doj. I know they must have only just entered the clearing, but that means I have no way out. They will have long range weapons that could be aimed at a running person with perfect precision. I doubt they would miss. Then, amongst all the shouting, I hear pleading.  
"No, no! It wasn't me! It wasn't... Please!" The voice belongs to a girl, the very same girl that abandoned me and left me for dead. I shift around the pile of supplies so I can see Tula backing into the clearing, being pursued very closely by the eight remaining careers, who have their weapons raised ready.  
"You killed Tage!" Doj shouts. Tage was his fellow Two boy. "And now... You're going to pay for it."  
"I didn't kill him, I swear, I-"  
"We... Watched you! You fought off the eight of us before. But now... We're going to kill you!"  
"Please...p..please!" Tula sobs. I can see her better now, she's limping.  
"Five days into the games and... Thirty two dead, by my count!" Well, that answers my questions. One person died while I was out, and a whole day passed. "Fourteen left and it's not even been a week! Well, these sure have been some interesting games!"  
Another female voice joins in then. I recognise it belonging to the massive girl from Three, Colina. "Doj, pleeeeease let me kill her!"  
"No! She killed Tage. I kill her." Colina stomps her foot.  
"Why? I've not killed anyone yet! Please!"  
"No."  
"Ugh!" Colina throws a punch at Doj, but he catches her fist.  
"Patience." In all this time, Tula could've run for it. I adjust my position. Doj turns to Tula, crossbow raised.  
"Haymitch!" Tula shouts. This shocks me somewhat, but the Careers look worried for a minute. Then they turn back to her.  
"He's not coming, you idiot." Then he fires. The dart flies forward and sticks in her stomach, and she doubles back. She draws a sword that I didn't notice she had, and swings, but Sofia, the girl from Two; dodges it easily. They all laugh. Doj fires another dart into her shoulder and she screams. I clap my hand to my mouth, wanting to run, help. But I can't. Then Doj releases a dart which impales itself into her chest. She collapses, barely moving, but the cannon hasn't fired yet. She takes one more dart to the throat before it finally does fire. I close my eyes. The Careers are laughing. The remaining girl from One heads off into the trees to gather firewood. The rest of them sit in the clearing.  
Why didn't I help? Would I risk my life for someone I barely know? That thought settles me somewhat. But this is the Hunger Games, and we're all out to kill. To murder.  
My greatest worry is how I'm going to get out of here. I'm stuck behind a barrier of weapons, food and acid. At least they don't know I'm here yet. I need to be silent.  
I dig through the pile, as quietly as I can. I find three more double sided knives, which I stash in my pack. I take three apples and a bag of dried fruit. I put a packet of crackers in my bag and then I find a pot of mixed spices. Strange thing to put in an arena but it looks legitimate and the pot is stamped with the Capitol seal. I stick it in my bag, along with a knife sharpener I find. Then I sit down to wait.  
I pick another apple off the pile and eat it quietly in small bites. It's getting dark when the Careers finally pack up their fire and sit down to hunt. Then the clearing is deserted. This is my chance! I get up and put my bags on my back. A cannon fires, then I know the Careers are otherwise occupied. So I start moving.  
I don't leap high enough over the acid and it scorches the end of my trousers off. However, it doesn't catch my skin, so I don't stop. I don't stop at all until I'm at least fifty metres from the tree line. I walk another half hour before I find my old camp under the rock ledge. Smiling, I make up camp, and sit to watch the seal.  
The anthem plays and then the faces of Maysilee's ally and Tula appear. I'm don't know if Maysilee is still alive, but if she was still allied with the girl when she was killed, she might be hurt. But I can't worry about that now. I cover myself in some vines for extra concealment and fall fast asleep.

* * *

_This update was kinda hard for me to write. Not sure why... So sorry for the delayed post! If there are any errors, please let me know and I'll correct them. _

_Thank you for all the reviews. I love that there are so many people liking my story :3_

_-Queenjawn_


End file.
